


Thinks of Her

by capthamm



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Navy, Alternate Universe - War, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan, Established Relationship, F/M, I have no idea where this came from, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, POV Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Pining, Something To Live For, Sorry Not Sorry, just bear with the angst, time cut short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24804751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capthamm/pseuds/capthamm
Summary: Deployment is easier when there isn’t anyone waiting for you at home.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 24
Kudos: 87





	Thinks of Her

**Author's Note:**

> I take no responsibility for what my brain vomits out at 4am.

Emma squeezes him around the waist, as though suffocating him will somehow prevent the inevitable.

_Flight 5680 to Washington, D.C.. now boarding at Gate C._

Killian feels her tense under the weight of the disembodied voice counting down their final moments together. He kisses the top of her head, desperate to comfort her in anyway he can.

Nine months abroad is much more appealing when there isn’t anyone waiting for you at home.

The stares of passers by who notice the uniform and attempt to emphasize with their pain in the nano moments of a glance are almost as constricting as Emma’s increasingly tight hold. He knows he has to go, but this was much easier when Emma said goodbye the night before with the rest of their friends— when he was in love with her despite her not really being his.

He feels her shudder in an attempt to withhold a sob and knows he has to go before he says fuck the Navy— god how he wishes he could say fuck the Navy. Instead, he whispers softly into her hair, “Emma, love, the plane is boarding.”

She doesn’t speak, simply nods into his chest before pulling back to look him in the eye. When blue meet emerald, he feels the air escape his lungs— her water rimmed irises catching the light. His Swan is truly stunning, even in this state.

He briefly thinks back on the speed at which they arrived where they are today— slowly and then all at once, like some bloke sat on the fast forward button with ten minutes left in the movie. When he left for his last deployment, they had shared a kiss and nothing more. Each of them had both been drinking, not so much to fog the memory of their shared dalliance. As quick as it happened, it was over. Emma assuring him it was all sexual tension and emotions over him leaving again— a one time thing.

_As you wish._

When he returned 18 months later, it was to a woman far more broken than the one he’d left. A ghost from her past resurfacing and disrupting the life of her and her son. He offered kindness and a shoulder to cry on as any friend would do and she accepted him willingly. The rest of it was inevitable really.

Killian had loved her since they were 15 years old and she punched Walsh in the face for calling Ruby a slut. If he’s honest with himself, it was probably a long time coming, but in that moment he knew there would be no one else. They spent years apart through deployments and college, but the small gang of friends they’d collected over the years always seemed to find themselves back in Storybrooke whether they wanted to be or not. It was the one constant in all their lives and Killian knew that acted like a magnet for each of the lost souls that found a bit of themselves in each other.

He found a lot of himself in Emma Swan.

_Final call. Flight 5680 to Washington, D.C. now boarding at Gate C._

The urgent voice snaps him out of his nostalgia, and he sees Emma go from emotional to all business just as suddenly. “Ok, Jones, you’ve got your papers, your passport, your pillow, and your charger so you can text me when you land?”

Killian chuckles sadly at her ability to shove emotion aside in an instant— knowing full well they’ll both breakdown over the invisible weight of an empty bed later that night. Who knew two months with someone next to you would make a lifetime of sleeping alone feel foreign?

“Yes, love. I’ve got everything.”

“If you forget anything, I—“

“Will send it. I know, Swan. I really need to be on my way or Robin will kill me.” He chuckles at the mention of his commanding officer, but then Killian can feel the sadness sweep over his features, mirroring hers almost perfectly.

“I suppose so. Henry stuffed a few stowaways in your bag so make sure you bring those home safe.”

She’s deflecting and he doesn’t blame her. They haven’t even had time to explore what this is and he’s leaving. He won’t leave Emma, not permanently, not the way everyone else has, and she knows that, but he’s positive the residual pain is what’s controlling her actions now. Put your walls up and never get hurt.

“I will, love.” He knows he’s committing to more than returning the stuff crocodile Henry most likely stuck between his civies and uniforms, but Killian expects that to be the end of it when she speaks again.

“I honestly don’t care about the fucking crocodile— come home safe, Killian.”

A tear streams down her face and he can’t take it anymore, grabbing each cheek and pulling her in for a kiss. It’s messy and wet, the salt water from their tears mixing as their lips touch. They break for air and rest their foreheads together. He’s about to speak when she takes a deep breath, “I love you, Killian Jones.”

His heart does a backwards loop at the words he’s longed to hear for 16 years now. Killian somehow forms a coherent sentence— probably because it’s the most absolute truth he’s ever spoke, “And I you, Emma Swan.” He gives her one more kiss before pulling away, the loss of contact immediately jarring. She must feel it too as she wraps her arms around her own waist, tucking her hands into her sleeves.

He double checks he has everything before giving her one last glance. “Not a day will go by that I won’t think of you.”

There’s a twinkle in her eye followed by a simple, “Good.” before they both turn away, subconsciously agreeing there’s nothing left to say.

. . .

Killian is a lot of things but a liar is not one of them. He does think of Emma every single day. After D.C., he was shipped off to Japan, working on a Naval base with the crew he’s come to know as family over the last 13 years. He can’t tell Emma where he is, and being at sea makes it hard for correspondence anyway. His thoughts of her are the only thing keeping loneliness at bay.

He thinks of her as the constellation Cygnus rises over the ship late one night. He thinks of her as they dock at small islands which, for all intents and purposes, don’t exist in her world. He thinks of her as the sea breeze blows through his hair, reminiscent of her hands in the dark of his bedroom. He thinks of her as he meets new people, nameless and faceless to her, but real as the sea to him. He thinks of her, willing a closeness he knows will only be possible when his time is up.

He thinks of her as the boat is ambushed. He thinks of her as he dives into the water. He thinks of her as he uses the last of his energy to swim— a lifeboat just far enough away for the salt water to begin burning his lungs. He thinks of her as they send up flares into the sky. He thinks of her as the ladder is dropped from the helicopter. He thinks of her as he sits safely wrapped in a blanket.

He’s never had someone to think of before.

That’s why when Robin asks him if he wants to continue his deployment, the Naval higher-ups giving them they option after what happened, he thinks of her.

For the entire plane ride and seemingly endless walk through the terminal at Logan International, he thinks of her.

It’s the first time in five months of thinking of her, that she materializes in front of him. One arm around Henry who seems to be showing off a homemade “Welcome Home” sign, and the other held up to her mouth as she nervously bites at her nails. Henry spots him first and Killian is positive this looks like the scene out of some sappy Nicholas Sparks novel that Emma reads with Mary Margaret. He doesn’t care in the slightest.

Until this moment, the startling difference between thoughts of her and the real Emma Swan had only been conjecture. He is no longer content with simple thoughts. While he vowed long ago to think only of her everyday of his life, in that moment, squeezed by her and her son, he silently vows to do so right from her side.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos, comments, general flailing always encouraged and appreciated :)
> 
> capthamm on Tumblr.


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